The wonders of the technological age. It may have its faults but there is no denying that the Internet has undoubtedly changed the world for the better. Information can be found at the click of a button or the touch of a keypad. We can carry the equivalent of hundreds of volumes of encyclopedias around with us in our pockets. Information can be stored, retrieved and reproduced with minimal effort.473Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbSOVCg5psO
Of course I couldn't benefit from any of the above due to the lack of electricity, Internet and any form of reception at our new house. Hence why I found myself in a library, yes an actual honest to God local library, doing research the old fashioned way-perched on the edge of a rickety chair staring at what I could only assume was the world's first computer monitor, scrolling through interminably slow Internet search pages with a bunch of local history books and maps stacked next to me.
It proved to be more difficult than I had first hoped to find any information about Salem. Almost two hours had gone by and I was still coming up with nothing useful. I was also starting to feel pretty bored. Salem had been right about not being able to leave the house. We had tried from several different doors but each time it was as if some invisible force was holding him back. I had reluctantly come down to the library by myself, Dad having dropped me off on his was to the home improvement shop. I had asked him to come back for me at four, which didn't leave me much longer to find out the mystery of our ghost.
The estate agent had been correct. I had searched for any murders or deaths that had occurred at the Manor but had come up a blank. The house had indeed been occupied by the McClaire family until 1939 when the last residents had left for America. I couldn't find a single reference to a "Salem McClaire" though. The manor on the other hand had clearly been famous in its heyday. I had managed to find pictures in local history books of the house in all its former glory. The gardens had been overflowing with exotic flowers and hedges cut into intricate shapes. Stone fountains spewed water into the air, horse-drawn carriages and vintage cars lined the driveway and liveried staff stood on hand to assist the glamorous guests. I had made copies of some of the photographs to show Salem, in the hope that they might spark some more memories.473Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ45tYwwYQmb
With increasing frustration, I shut down the computer and headed over to the microfiche machine. The librarian had been very helpful when I said I wanted to research the manor and the McClaire family. She had gathered a small collection of books and had shown me how to search for local records. I therefore decided to turn my attention to the parish records and see if I could find any reference to the birth or death of a Salem McClaire.473Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡv0iiEOvZfZ
I twirled the dial on the machine slowly until the images came into focus. Lists of names, most of them in incredibly hard to read handwriting, littered the screen. I methodically worked my way though film after film, scanning the entries for any mention of a Salem or a McClaire. The entries became older and older, with names even harder to read. Just when I was about to admit defeat, an entry near the bottom of the page caught my eye.
It was tricky to make out exactly. It was written in a fancy, old-fashioned script. However, the last name clearly had a 'McC' at the start and the first name, despite the letters being squashed close together, could be a Salem. There was certainly an 'S' at the front anyway. What really grabbed my attention though was the date.
July 17th, 1924
If this was our ghost, he had been around for a while.
"Lacey-are you ready?" A stage whisper came from the stack of books behind me and I turned around to see Dad waiting.
"Yes, I'm ready." I grabbed my books, papers and bags and headed towards the door.473Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlcjamIjM6U
"Well, did you have fun? Find out lots of interesting facts?" Dad asked.
I nodded. I had told him I was on a fact-finding mission so we would have plenty of information to tell our future guests.
"Lots of stuff."
"Great, that will really come in handy Lacey." He paused for a moment, the keys to the car in his hand. "I, I know you weren't thrilled about moving here so, it really means a lot that you're doing this. I'm sure we'll be happy here Lacey."
I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to force a smile.
"Sure we will." Despite the fact that our new home is haunted. "We better get back, looks like rain again."
...
"So, what do you think? Recognise anything?"
I had spread the photos I had brought back from the library over a desk in what I assumed used to be the library in the Manor. Although all of the books were gone the walls were still lined with heavy oak shelves. A grand fireplace and a huge, lacquered desk dominated the center of the room. Salem stood over the photographs, scanning each image with great scrutiny. Eventually, he raised his head and shook it slowly, that look of frustration coming over his face again.473Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMhnRocLCJv
"No, nothing."
"What about the date? 1924? Does that sound familiar?" I asked.
Again, he shook his head. "No."
"Ok, if that is you, and I couldn't seem to find anyone else with that name, where on Earth have you been all this time? I mean, why 'appear' now? You said you only arrived here on the day we came."
"I have no idea. I don't remember anything before I came here. It was like I didn't even exist."
I paced the floor in front of the fireplace, wishing it was actually lit as I rubbed the chill from my arms.
"Lets look at the facts then. At least we have a name and quite possibly a date for when you died. It shouldn't be too difficult to do some more research and find out exactly what happened." I ran through potential plans in my head. "I could go back to the library...though I've probably found out everything I can from there. Maybe the church? Its possible you're, um-buried-there. I might be able to find out something..."
"Lacey?"
"...or I could try to contact the McClaire family in America? Say I'm researching for the new hotel..."473Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFIcdc0QR8i
"Lacey?"
"What?" I turned to him in frustration but he had his back to me, his eyes fixed on the photographs once more.
"What's wrong?"
"Come over here and look at this." He sounded nervous which worried me immensely for some reason. I joined him by the desk and looked at the photograph he indicated with his finger.
"What can you see?" Salem asked.
I stared down at the photograph, at first not seeing anything out of the ordinary. It was a photograph that I had found in an old newspaper in the society pages. There had been an article about the Manor-some swanky wedding had been held there and several photographs had been taken of the celebrations. The one I was looking at now showed a small crowd of people, all dressed in the finest clothes and jewellery, standing somewhere that I did not recognise in the Manor. I looked harder, concentrating on each face, slowing making my way through the crowd.
"Oh my God!"
I couldn't believe what I was seeing but there it was, staring right back up at me. My own face.
"That's impossible!" I picked up the photograph in order to examine the image more closely, nearly crumpling the paper in my tense grip. "It looks like me."
"I think it is you." Salem said, his voice surprisingly calm.
"No, that's impossible." But even as I said it I doubted myself. It certainly looked like me. I was standing near the back of the crowd, wearing a flapper style dress with a jewelled headband around my forehead. My hair was pulled up into tight pin-curls. I looked every inch the 1920s girl. But my face was unmistakably the same. The eyes stared up at me, cool and calm, as if daring me to find out their secrets.
"I guess that explains why I only showed up when you arrived." Salem nodded towards the picture. "There's obviously more going on here than we realise."473Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzk71jebiPW
I felt my head slowing moving up and down like a marionette puppet. I looked back at the photograph.
"Obviously."473Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQbrKPbngKj
